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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140039">How They Really Met</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinHartson/pseuds/ErinHartson'>ErinHartson</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Political RPF - US 21st c.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Light Angst, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:08:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,079</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23140039</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinHartson/pseuds/ErinHartson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>See title.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chasten Buttigieg/Pete Buttigieg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>How They Really Met</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chasten could still feel his pulse hammering as he withdrew and collapsed beside the guy who called himself ‘Brad’. Brad was still panting heavily and turned to him with a grin, saying, “Thank you, that was really, really good!” Chasten grinned back and the two enjoyed the after-glow for a couple of minutes before Brad suggested softly, “You’re welcome to use the shower here before you go.”<br/>“Ok, thanks,” Chasten replied, getting up quickly and tamping down disappointment. It was only ever supposed to be a hookup he reminded himself as he headed into the bathroom, disposing of the condom and turning on the water. The hotel-provided toiletries were luxurious and Chasten succeeded in avoiding maudlin thoughts as he lathered up and enjoyed the feeling of decent water pressure for a change. <br/>He made sure his body was dry before wrapping the towel around his waist, knowing he would be dressing quickly as soon as he opened the bathroom door and leaving straight after that. <br/>Brad was back in his boxer briefs and seated at the small hotel table with a laptop when Chasten emerged. He appeared to be working on an Excel spreadsheet and had an open briefcase with a stack of paper in it. It only took a minute for Chasten to dress in his jeans and polo shirt, the socks and shoes taking the most time, during which Brad didn’t look up from his work. <br/>At the door Chasten hesitated, his curiosity getting the better of him. <br/>“Peter?”<br/>Brad looked up, his eyes widening in alarm.<br/>“You don’t recognise me, do you? It was five years ago, here in Chicago. At Champions Bar. I think I was your first.”<br/>There was a loaded silence until Brad or Peter gently closed the laptop and stood picking up some of his own clothes and beginning to dress.<br/>But he didn’t speak.<br/>Chasten got the message. Nothing more would come of this, but frustration rose up in him.<br/>“Are you married or something? You have a wedding ring hiding in that briefcase and a clueless woman waiting at home?”<br/>Peter was fully dressed now and he sat on one end of the hotel’s little sofa gesturing for Chasten to take the other. <br/>“I’m not married and I don’t live in Chicago, although I did five years ago.” He paused before going on, seeming to choose his words carefully. “I travel occasionally with work and I meet guys in cities that are big enough so I won’t … stand out. In between times I have to keep myself in check. My job has a .. public side to it … here in the mid-West where it’s still socially conservative most places. Which is why I haven’t come out yet. If you met me five years ago it would have been when I’d just come out to myself.”<br/>Chasten found his calm demeanour almost infuriating but took a slow breath and found the strength he used to deal with unruly adolescents at school. <br/>“I know about socially conservative places - I grew up in Northern Michigan and I came out at 18 - but I get it. Every journey is different. I guess I’m just wondering why you didn’t say anything when you messaged me tonight, or when I first arrived?” <br/>At the long silence he answered for himself: “Because you just wanted a fuck, not a complication.” <br/>Chasten wasn’t sure why he was letting himself care. He’d chosen to hookup tonight with no expectations of romance or relationship but more and more he loathed impersonal sex, which was why it had been so long since he’d used the app. <br/>“You didn’t say anything either,” Peter murmured and Chasten wondered if he would be better off returning to thinking of him as ‘Brad’. He couldn’t judge - he’d used ‘Chris’ on his profile. <br/>“Well I was actually surprised - your profile doesn’t show your face. If you hadn’t taken my pants off so fast I might have raised it.”<br/>Peter’s glance flicked to the bed and back to Chasten. “We were both too busy for conversation, weren’t we? You had a good time, right?”<br/>“Yeah, I did. Your technique has improved a lot. It was ... really, really good.” Why he was repeating Peter’s phrase from earlier back to him, Chasten didn’t know but he knew he’d overstayed his welcome. “Well I guess that’s as good a note as any on which to say goodbye,” he said, standing. “Sorry for keeping you from your work.” He had his hand on the doorknob when Peter spoke his name, “Chasten.”  A thrill went through Chasten and he turned at the sound - Peter remembered. <br/>“I recognised your face when I saw your profile,” Peter said. I fulfilled a fantasy tonight finding you again. You didn’t disappoint. You made me slow down like you did five years ago. You made sex better than any I’ve had since.”<br/>Chasten wanted to preen and scoff all at once but he adjusted his glasses and sighed. “Yeah that’s because I don’t like anonymous sex. I can’t help imagining there’s some real connection going on. So I’ve tried staying off the hookup apps until tonight when I was lonely and desperate and I caved in. I knew what I was getting into. But it still hurts.”<br/>Peter’s eyes were full of compassion. “Caring is healthier I imagine. I don’t think it’s fair if I ask someone to date me while I’m in the closet. So I do it this way, but I don’t like it either. I want more, some day.”<br/>They were in a standoff it seemed and Chasten was tired so he turned towards the door once more ... but Peter came forward, reaching out and then he kissed him so sweetly that Chasten kissed him back. And the kiss kept going until they both started moving back towards the bed where they held each other for what felt like hours. Peter was licking and nuzzling Chasten's neck when he spoke so huskily that Chasten nearly missed his words: "I’m leaving soon, for Afghanistan - I’m in the Navy Reserve. Will you meet me here in another two weeks?” Chasten leaned away until Peter looked up and met his gaze. "You're going to war?" he asked hoping he'd misheard. "I'll have a desk job, it won't be that dangerous," Peter answered but he looked away quickly. "Will you let me write to you while I’m gone?”<br/>Chasten whispered, past the lump in his throat. “Ok. I will.”</p>
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